


Hellespont

by figbash



Series: Nagron [40]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Assassins & Hitmen, Homme Fatale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-21 13:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6052882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figbash/pseuds/figbash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My half-serious Nagron assassin serial, inspired by <a href="http://aionyu.tumblr.com/post/54440269157/im-the-capt-and-this-is-my-ship-apologies-i">this fanart series by Max.</a></p><p>Agron and Nasir on opposite sides of the law. Nasir as a homme fatale. *dun dun dun*</p><p> </p><p>...Think "Steven Seagal action movie from the 90s" with *slightly* more homoeroticism ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It's not the first time Agron has woken to find a gun trained on him. Hazards of the job. He blinks up at the man standing at his bedside. When his vision clears, Agron glances to the door of the apartment. No signs of forced entry. 

_The window?_ Agron finds himself vaguely amused, of all things. _He’s like a stray cat._ Agron opens his mouth to try a bit of negotiation.

_"Shut your fucking mouth,"_ hisses the intruder. "I speak, you listen." With one hand the man pats him down, pulling Agron's gun from his side and placing it safely on the table behind him. 

"You're a tenacious shit, you know that? I'm going to let you make your peace because I respect the work you did. But you need to understand that you're not leaving here alive. And that's something that's out of my hands."

“You looked sad.”

“W-what?” 

“I had the shot, you know. But I couldn’t do it with that look on your face.”

“Bullshit.”

“I think we’ve both been in the game long enough to know the real shit from the bullshit, hm?”

The man's face darkens, and he narrows his eyes. When he answers, there's a fury in his voice that runs deep. “You don’t fucking know me. You don’t know a single fucking thing about me.”

“Parents: Unknown. Siblings: An older brother. Given name…” Agron smiles up at him. _“…Nasir.”_

The butt of the gun cracks Agron across his face and everything goes black. Agron doesn’t expect to wake up again, but after an undetermined amount of time, he opens his eyes. A splitting headache sharply confirms his continued existence in the living world.

“…Nasir.” Agron says to the empty room.

It would be over a year before they would meet again. The name would be on Agron’s mind every intervening day, in their cat and mouse game around the globe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that fanart by Max is one of the greatest pieces of Nagron art EVER made, in my opinion. It's just so goddamn beautiful, and it's wonderful how it implies a story without exactly dictating how that story would go. Truly inspiring for many fic writers!
> 
> This started out as a loosey goosey discussion on Facebook, and just turned into something that I really enjoyed writing. (Also my first Modern AU Nagron story!) Thanks to all my FB friends who encouraged me to write more, you guys are great!! :D
> 
> It has also been a lot of fun doing the photo collages to go along with each chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> Hellespont is a narrow stretch of the sea in what is now northwestern Turkey, and which separates Europe and Asia. In the myth of Hero and Leander, Leander fell in love with Hero and would swim every night across the Hellespont to be with her.


	2. Riyadh, London, Ibiza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saudi Arabia, England, Spain.

In Riyadh, Agron thinks he sees him mid-afternoon, sipping at a cup of coffee in a cafe. Nasir's hair is in a topknot and the scruff of his beard makes him seem older. His clothing and manners blend seamlessly with those around him. He flips through an Arabic newspaper, glancing over the top of it every so often, without any sense of urgency. A professional, through and through. 

Agron's height allows him to keep subtle eyes on the spot as he zig-zags through the seething mass of people, under the heat of an unrelenting sun. It only takes a bus half a moment to pass across Agron's view, but it is enough. 

Nasir is gone.

* * * * *

In London, there are complications. MI-6 lets Agron know he should not wear out his welcome, in no uncertain terms. But Agron doesn't care, they're a bunch of fucking prima donnas anyway. He watches and waits. At night he stalks down the streets and listens where there is talk to be had. Eventually Agron finds what he wants to hear. 

It's early on a cold, rainy gray morning, as though the previous evening has refused to surrender its hold on the day. Nasir is a solitary figure walking briskly down the block, just outside the dim illumination of the street lights. He’s clad in a black windbreaker and pants, and his face only bears the shadow of stubble this time. When Nasir ducks into a building three blocks down, Agron slips in behind him, weapon drawn. Nasir turns around immediately, and Agron cocks a brow.

"Shall I feed you back that line of yours? 'I respect the work you did' and all that horse shit? Hands in the air.”

Nasir takes his sweet ass time, but finally obeys the command. ”…Just do it."

"In a hurry to die, friend?”

"Why waste the breath? You’ve got your prize. I’m sure there’s a promotion in it for you.”

“That’s not what I’m in this for. You-”

Simultaneously both their heads snap in the direction of the headlights reflecting from the grid of windows near the ceiling. Nasir makes a dash for the door and Agron shoots twice. The first shot misses but the second hits Nasir somewhere in his side. Agron is impressed that the wound barely slows Nasir as he stumbles onto the street again, and into the waiting car. It peels away before Agron can aim for the tires.

Agron takes hold of the nearest object and smashes it against the concrete wall. Then another, and another. But through the bitterness of his anger comes the renewal of his determination. 

* * * * *

In Ibiza, it's a hotel that stands like a sleek fortress against the night sky, and the kind of centuries-old money that owns countries, as well as human lives. There is less flash here than elsewhere on the island, but it appears to be by design. Dark SUVs deposit their passengers discreetly, and couture-clad guests slide in and out of view. The attendant opens the door of the next car that pulls up, and this time it is Nasir who emerges in a black blazer and slacks, hair gathered back from a clean shaven face. He waits on the sidewalk until his companion joins him. Agron recognizes the man. His face has been on a list of known drug traffickers for at least a decade. 

Agron’s trigger finger twitches slightly, tempted by the lesser prize, but instead he observes from his perch atop a building. The man says something in Nasir's ear, but it is the hand on the small of Nasir's back that Agron takes particular notice of. Nasir nods, following the man through the glass doors. Agron turns away, hunching back down and laying his rifle at his feet.

It only takes 5 minutes of work before his phone is inside the reservation system, and in another 15 Agron is atop another building, watching the window of the room he wants.

 _This needs to end,_ Agron thinks to himself. The windows of the room are enormous, with clear sight lines. Agron positions his rifle in a groove between the bricks.  _Two head shots and the whole thing’s finally over. Don’t let it fuck with you. You've got this._

Agron watches patiently as Nasir pours drinks, his back to Agron's view. Maybe it's an opportunity to slip something in. Maybe the trafficker is a moot point. Nasir seats himself in an armchair across from the man, and there is conversation. Before long, the man pats the arm of his chair and Nasir comes to sit there obediently, laughing. Agron frowns. 

_Now. DO IT NOW. What the fuck are you waiting for???_

The man throws back the last of his drink and he tugs off Nasir's jacket, tossing it on the carpet. Then the man takes a fistful of Nasir's tie like a leash, pulling him down for a drunken kiss, fondling Nasir's crotch with the other hand. Agron feels his heart start to pound. Nasir rises, and Agron watches as he saunters past the windows, through a doorway and into the bedroom, letting his shirt fall to the floor on the way. Agron can't tear his eyes away, but neither does he want to witness what's about to happen. Nasir pauses at the windows next to the bed.

Agron’s breath catches when Nasir suddenly looks up at him directly through the scope. It’s like their first encounter all over again. But this time Nasir’s eyes seem defiant, as if to say,  _This is who I am. This is what I do._  Agron watches an arm snake out of the darkness and wrap around Nasir’s waist. Then the drapes are drawn shut, and Agron swallows hard as he lowers his rifle again.

 

Then there is Hong Kong.

 


	3. Wan Chai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hong Kong.

Wan Chai is chaos during the day, and doubly so at night. The neon lights burn 24/7, but it’s only after the sun goes down that their colors take over the city, painting every surface with a radioactive glow. After dark, the air seems infused with a different kind of energy, and no one is immune to its intoxicating effects. 

Agron's intel is more than accurate, this time. He's sure he knows exactly where Nasir is, despite the tangled web of the city. He's pleased when Nasir appears from the side entrance of a club, almost as if on cue. Agron gives him a block's head start, then begins his pursuit.

They pass through the night market, winding around stalls under a flood of fluorescent lights. Beyond the market is the last stretch of the tourist sector, and beyond that things rapidly turn seedier. In between the facades of newer clubs sit faded establishments from eras past, like rotten teeth. Everywhere there are girls, mostly Southeast Asians, calling out to passersby. A particularly enterprising girl decides to fall right against Agron’s chest, looking up at him hopefully. With an apologetic glance Agron moves her away, cursing under his breath as he watches Nasir slip down a side street further up ahead.

Agron manages to cut through the crowd relatively quickly, turning down the same side street. Nasir is nowhere in sight. Agron curses again, pulling out his phone to make a guess at what Nasir’s destination might be. Then a gun presses firmly into his back.

“Give it to me.”

Agron shakes his head, holding up the phone. “Take it. There’s nothing on it. Kill switch.”

Nasir snatches the phone out of Agron’s hand, clearly annoyed. He throws it on the ground and crushes it beneath his boot for good measure.

“Hands against the wall.”

Agron can't help but grin, for some reason. Nasir pats him down and goes through his pockets. 

“So… we finally meet again,” Agron comments quietly. "Guess it was my turn this time."

“Look how arrogant you are, in your expensive fucking jeans and all that shit in your hair.” Agron feels Nasir reach up and rake fingers through his hair, making a mess of it. "I'd be doing you a favor to drop you, right in the filth of this fucking alley."

"I didn't think you'd be on a job again so soon."

“Did you enjoy the show, asshole?"

"You only saw me because I wanted you to."

Nasir laughs. "You think that was the first time I spotted you?"

"Did you fuck him?"

"Why? Is that what this whole thing's been about, all this time? Is that what you want?? This is fucking Wan Chai, you can get whatever kind of ass you’re looking for, white boy.”

“If you don’t want to answer the question, just say so.”

“Did you _want_ me to fuck him?" Nasir's voice takes on a tone of dark amusement. "Did you touch yourself imagining it… those dirty hands all over me?”

Agron’s back suddenly straightens when Nasir’s fingers skirt over his fly, but the nose of Nasir’s gun presses harder against his spine.

“Don’t,” warns Nasir.

“I wasn’t going to-“

“How much do they pay you to be a fuck-up, over and over again, hmm?”

“I kept up with you pretty well though, didn’t I?” Agron turns his head slightly. “For a fuck-up that is.”

“Don’t you dare fucking look at me!” Nasir snaps, sliding the gun up the back of Agron’s neck as he undoes the button of Agron’s jeans with the other hand. 

Agron sucks in air through his teeth as Nasir’s hand wanders over him, touching and teasing through the denim. He feels himself grow hard, and he sighs with the constriction of it.

“You must think you’re God’s fucking gift, eh?” Nasir asks him in a low voice, stroking him lightly. “How do you like getting caught like a _bitch?”_

Agron gives a shuddering laugh, nervousness and arousal. “…Not as bad as I thought.”

Nasir tightens his grip and his hand moves faster. Agron hangs his head. _It feels fucking good._  “This is the last time you’ll ever see me.”

“W-why?” Agron manages between breaths, finding it increasingly hard to muster coherent thought. He feels Nasir click the safety off of his gun.

“Because as good as you think you are,” begins Nasir, stroking him mercilessly underneath denim and cotton, pressing the nose of the gun into the back of Agron’s neck. 

Somehow the twin sensations build up together until Agron comes hard, falling forward against the brick wall, panting.

“…I’m even better,” Nasir says in Agron’s ear. 

He wipes his hand on the back of Agron’s jeans, and he's disappeared back into the crowded streets before Agron can stand on his own two legs again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gunpoint hand jobs FTW! 
> 
> XD
> 
> And yeah I know Nasir was just doing it with one hand, but I loved that photo of the hands inside the jeans... I couldn't bear to crop out that other hand.


	4. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a number of exciting & sexy international adventures, Agron has a huge stack of paperwork waiting for him back at the office. Lame. XD

“He’s a slippery motherfucker, eh?” Castus says, after Agron has finished his story.

“Ain’t that the truth,” nods Agron, taking a deep swig from a mug of black coffee.

Agron’s story has conveniently omitted a hand job at gunpoint in an alley in Hong Kong, but Agron reasons that Castus has probably omitted his fair share of indiscretions from his own work stories. And if Agron maybe sometimes jerks off to the memory of that particular indiscretion in that particular alley, Castus could have done something like that too. Let a dude have his secrets, you know?

It’s a tough line of work. Arguably the toughest part of which is the pages upon pages of reports that must be filed after a mission has reached completion. Agron rakes a hand through his hair. He’s not putting quite as much shit in his hair these days, and he does admit that he kinda likes it.

“So lemme just point out… Nasir did do us a favor. That trafficker had been on the list for over 10 years! And taking him out fucked up operations for a couple of days. We got a few more as a result, did you know that?” says Castus, with almost boyish excitement.

“Huh,” mumbles Agron, typing away.

“I bet you’re pretty close to getting Nasir too. I can’t believe you’ve had actual contact with him and you’re still fucking alive!!”

“Y-yeah…” Agron answers. 

_Actual contact. Actual hand-on-dick contact._

“Don’t be modest, man. You’ve got this! And we’re going out to get shit-faced when it happens!!” Castus slaps him on the back as he walks by, on his way for more coffee.

* * * * * 

It’s been another late night. Sometimes Agron gets the sense that the goddamn paperwork is just there as payback for all the expenses he racks up in the field. There’s probably someone in a dark basement office whose sole job it is to print out Agron’s reports and then immediately run them through the shredder.

Agron taps out the code to his apartment, relieved to be coming nearer and nearer to his tumbler of whiskey and later, the soft comfort of his bed. Agron steps inside, shutting the door behind him with his foot. He leans back against the door with a sigh.

_This silence is depressing. I should get a cat._

Agron looks up again to see Nasir sitting at his dining room table, calmly sipping Agron’s whiskey from a glass and paging through his photo album. Nasir doesn’t even bother to raise his head.

“You’re late.”

For a moment, Agron is speechless. Then he’s annoyed. “Who the FUCK do you think-”

But before he can finish, Nasir suddenly launches over the table, hurling the glass of whiskey at his head. Agron ducks and the glass shatters against the door behind him, but Nasir tackles him, and they both slam against the hardwood floor. The impact knocks the wind out of Agron and he wheezes.

“You’ve become a bit of a fucking problem,” Nasir tells him, his hands diving under Agron’s jacket for his gun.

There’s a brief struggle as they fumble for the weapon, and it goes skittering across the floor into the kitchen. Agron manages to throw Nasir off of him, scrambling to his feet and darting into the bedroom, where there’s another gun stashed in the top dresser drawer. Nasir comes at him again, grabbing him from behind and using his weight to topple him backwards. 

They fall onto the bed behind them and Agron throws a punch that lands hard. Nasir spits a mouthful of blood onto the sheets, returning the blow with a well-placed kick, but it opens him up at the same time.

Agron knees him in the side, right where he put a bullet in him months ago, extracting a strangled cry of pain. He flips Nasir on his back and holds a forearm across his throat.

“Are you gonna calm down?!?” Agron demands, out of breath.

Nasir thrashes wildly, but Agron somehow manages to sit on his legs to pin him completely, using the full advantage of his greater weight.

“Finish the fucking job!!! DO IT!!!” hisses Nasir, his eyes on fire.

Agron stares down at him for a moment. Nasir’s face is sweaty and his lip is bloody and it's unreal how  _fucking beautiful_ he is. Before Agron knows it, and before his brain can tell him that this is a horrible idea, he’s kissing Nasir like a goddamn fool, like he's maybe wanted to do ever since they'd first met. Then Nasir’s tongue is in his mouth and Nasir’s hands are pulling at Agron’s shirt so hard that the seams begin to tear. Neither of them can breathe but their mouths attack each other as their hands rip away the last cumbersome pieces of clothing. 

Nasir's legs wrap around Agron's waist, watching his face, making a swift assessment. "You're a top, aren't you?"

"I'm anything you want me to be," Agron breathes eagerly, squeezing Nasir's calf with one hand.

Nasir looks down, making another sort of assessment... then looks back up with a slow smile. "...You can fuck me. Back pocket of my jeans."

There's a faint, faint voice in Agron's head telling him how crazy this is. But it's easy enough to turn that voice off when Nasir's legs hook over Agron’s arms, and Nasir's body is open and warm and _so fucking tight_ as Agron begins to slide into him. Nasir closes his eyes, exhaling as he relaxes into it.

"Are you ok...?"

Nasir's brows furrow, eyes still closed. "You're not _that_ big, you arrogant motherfucker."

“What was that?” Agron gives him a hard thrust that shoves Nasir back into the pillows. "Hm?"

Nasir's hand clutches the back of Agron's neck, pulling him down close. "Like that. Fuck me like that," he sighs. "Don't stop." 

The words send a tingle up Agron's spine, and his hips drive into Nasir’s with wild abandon, like a fucking dog in heat. The bed shifts noisily under them as their bodies collide, and the sheets become damp with their mingled sweat. It feels so right to be locked together like this, kissing with a hungry urgency after so many months of denial.

When it’s over, they lie in bed in stunned silence, staring up at the ceiling.

“…Agron," says Nasir, after a long moment.

"That's the first time you've ever said my name."

"You need to stay out of my way. They want you gone… you know that. Don't give me a reason."

"That your way of saying that you like me a little?"

 "I know you think this can happen again, but that's not how it's gonna be."

"...I think your ass is gonna be in this lap in about 3 seconds, is what I think."

Nasir says nothing, crawling over to him across the sheets. He throws a leg over Agron's body, but chooses instead to straddle Agron's ribs. Nasir smiles down at him, stroking himself indulgently, letting Agron watch him.

"Open your mouth."

Agron obeys, lathing him with his tongue, feeling light-headed with unexpected arousal. His hands take hold of Nasir's solid hips as he swallows Nasir's cock, feeling the wet leak of his own against his thigh. It is the sweetest kind of torture to pleasure Nasir like this, pinned down between the muscles of his thighs, feeling the luscious contours of Nasir's ass writhing under his hands. Agron's hips buck up, craving contact, wanting so badly to be inside him again. Nasir grabs Agron’s hair with both hands, exhaling with the added pleasure of the ministrations of Agron’s tongue. At last Nasir withdraws from Agron's mouth, leaning down to place an appreciative kiss before sliding off of his chest.

Nasir turns away from him, on his knees and elbows, thighs parted wide. Agron grabs him, caressing the lines of his body with a renewed thirst. Before long Agron’s fingers are digging into Nasir as his cock slides deep. This time it’s Nasir who does the work, rolling his hips, fucking himself with smooth undulations against Agron’s body. Agron leans back on one arm, letting Nasir ride him, loving the hot delicious slide of Nasir’s ass, the rise of Nasir’s shoulder blades as he rocks onto him.

Agron wraps an arm around Nasir’s chest, rearing him up so that they’re kneeling together. He pumps into Nasir even harder, kissing him, biting him, fucking him, owning him. Agron comes with a ferocious sound, a mindless white flood of pleasure shocking through him, taking his breath away. Vaguely, he hears Nasir come too, feels every muscle of Nasir’s body tense, the wet pearlescent splatter over Nasir’s skin.

Agron stays inside of him, wrapping his arms around Nasir’s waist and pressing his face to the side of Nasir’s neck, just breathing him in. 

_Jesus. Jesus Fucking Christ._  

Reluctantly Agron releases Nasir as he pulls out of him, tossing the condom into the waste bin in the corner before he lies back. He turns his head to look at Nasir.

“I can’t believe I wanna fuck you again, right now.”

“S’was good,” Nasir rasps, an arm over his eyes, trying to catch his breath again.

“You’re like a fucking drug.”

Nasir laughs softly. He uncovers his eyes and turns his head on the pillow. “You like to say some outrageous shit sometimes, don’t you?”

Agron grins. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Nasir smiles at him sleepily, and soon they both succumb to their exhaustion.

It’s 4am when Nasir’s lips are on Agron’s cock, kissing him awake, running his tongue over him. They do it all over again, hands and mouths over every inch of each other, in the armchair in the living room, on Agron’s kitchen counter and up against the wall, too. The entire thing is like a fever dream, but Agron doesn’t care, it’s too damn good.

 

Much later, Agron wakes up on the floor of his dining room, under a comforter that’s been hastily pulled on top of him. Alone. Agron frowns, taking that in. He’s disappointed but accepting of it. 

_Of course. Did you think you were gonna make him eggs or something??_  

Once he sits up, he rubs at some sore spots on his back, discovering that he bears a number of welts from scratches. And his memory of how he received those scratches does make him smile. 

Agron stands up and rolls his neck, stretching and cracking his back. He becomes aware of the faint but insistent buzz of his phone from the nightstand in the bedroom. Agron walks down the hall to retrieve it. The incoming number is private, and Agron anticipates a certain voice but hears an entirely different one.

“Agron!!” Castus shouts from the other end. “The meeting’s in 15 minutes, where the fuck are you?? Were you sleeping??? The director’s here, ya dumbass!!”

“Fuuuuuck.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha didn't expect all THAT to happen after reading the chapter summary, eh??? Lol.
> 
> It was nice of Nasir to make sure Agron didn't get cold before he left. <3


	5. Istanbul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turkey

An occasional perk of being top agent is that your boss will sometimes choose to politely ignore your lateness, as well as the general disarray of your appearance. Agron slinks into the conference room, taking a seat next to Castus. The director gives Agron a significant look, but he escapes any further admonishment. Castus side-eyes him super hard, in a mixture of jealousy and incredulity. Agron gives him his best guilty eyes and mouths the word, "Thanks" to him. Castus snorts derisively.

There's extensive discussion of current projects, as well as an overview of upcoming issues on a world map. Agron sees with relief that the director seems pleased. After the meeting adjourns, the director pulls Agron aside.

"Agron."

"Sir?" says Agron in a neutral tone, waiting for his tongue-lashing.

“We’re taking you off the Nasir case for awhile.”

“Sir, I’ve made contact on two separate occasions, it’s only a matter of time.”

“You’ve done commendable work, rest assured. But our analysts think that because of your success in tracking him, he’s going to lay low, figure out how to switch up his game. When he decides to poke his head out again, we’re putting you right back on it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

* * * * * 

Agron finds himself snooping through intel, more than he has any business to. The analysts' predictions were right. Nasir seems to lay low for a while, and a month passes before there's any hint of activity from the organization. 

Some nights, right before Agron opens the door to his apartment, he imagines that he'll find Nasir sitting at his dining room table again, having helped himself to whiskey and maybe another one of his photo albums. It makes Agron smile to himself. 

_He's such a little shit._

But what Agron doesn't like to think about, what Agron tries to push out of his head, is the undeniable truth that they're on opposing sides. Sooner or later, a day will come when Nasir's on the wrong end of his gun, and Agron's going to have to pull the trigger. 

And honestly... why does that bother him so much? Do they even really know each other? Nasir's more of a profile in a document than a person in the flesh. Why should Agron feel bad about taking down a criminal, when the time comes? It's a relationship that defies any classification, and it’s a goddamn mess.

Agron lets himself dive back into his work, and it helps him air out his brain a little. Another month passes. He's in Pakistan for 3 days,  then various locations in South America for several weeks. 

In a remote section of jungle, Agron’s team ambushes a major operation. Despite a meticulous infiltration plan, things don't go smoothly, however. The bullet that catches Agron in the chest is stopped by his ballistic vest, but the force of it fractures several ribs. They air lift him to a local hospital with a punctured lung, and somewhere along the journey the violent rumblings from the copter finally make Agron pass out from the pain.

In a Colombian hospital, Agron drifts in and out for a day as the doctors wait for him to stabilize. He sleeps only for short periods, though his pain is dulled under a haze of meds. 

A number of interesting dreams float through his head. In one, he's in Hong Kong with Nasir again, and they get up to all sorts of things that make Agron grin like a pervert. In another, they're living together in his apartment, watching movies on the couch like a fucking married couple. At some point he even has a dream about Castus. For some reason they seem to be romantic rivals and things go deeply awry, ending in a fist fight. Nasir is in that one too. Strange.

Agron's eyes crack open and he looks at the clock next to the hospital bed. 2am. Agron closes his eyes, willing himself back to sleep. When he opens them again minutes later, Nasir is standing over him. Agron smiles groggily. He can't be sure whether he's slipped into another dream, but he decides to enjoy it while it lasts.

"...Here on business? Should I be worried?"

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"I don't." Agron frowns. "Not any more, I mean."

"There wasn't a single photo of him in that album."

"The one you were looking through when you broke into my home and tried to murder me?"

Nasir doesn't bat an eye. "...I also had a brother."

"I know. But we never encountered each other. It wasn't us who took him out."

"I know."

"But it's still shitty when your job affects someone you love. It fucking tears you apart," Agron says. He's surprised by how bitter his voice sounds. "His name was Duro. He was 3 years younger than me."

"Hakim was older. Four years."

"I keep them in another place, his pictures," admits Agron quietly. "...It's still… It’s hard.”

They begin the strangest of conversations, where Agron becomes increasingly convinced that it really is a dream that he's having. They both speak of their brothers, and Agron says things to Nasir that he's never said aloud to another living being. 

Nasir almost seems like he's in a confessional at points. He speaks about the past, and the dark horrible things that happen to two young boys who lose their parents, and get swallowed up into the hands of the powerful. Agron listens with rapt attention, and the pain in his chest is nothing next to the ache in his heart as he watches Nasir’s face.

"I've stayed too long," Nasir says at last. "...I don't know why I said all of that."

The ache in Agron's heart grows stronger. He knows Nasir is about to disappear again and that he is powerless to stop him. 

"When can I see you again?"

Nasir shakes his head, rising from his chair.

"I'll find you," insists Agron, trying to sit up on the pillows but wincing from the pain.

"It's not going to be how you think." Nasir turns away. "No matter how much you want it to be," he adds softly, before he slips out the door.

 

Agron is discharged that morning, He’s put on lighter duty for a time, and it’s the last thing he wants to do. He can’t help but snoop through more intel, guessing at Nasir’s whereabouts, tracking him the way no one else would be able to. His evenings are spent studying the scant, disconnected bits of information in Nasir’s file. Then one day he hits a rabbit hole. 

There are also fragments of information about Nasir’s brother, more than perhaps anyone has realized. Bolstered by his own knowledge, Agron slowly fits pieces together. Something doesn’t sit right with him. But before he’s gotten it all figured out, Agron is given the all-clear for his next mission. 

Istanbul.

* * * * * 

Nuruosmaniye Mosque is where Agron finds himself after he’s done what he’s come to do. The blood on Agron's hands is invisible, but he knows that the stain is deep. It is a burden he has pledged to bear. On this day, however, Agron feels himself waver. His world appears to be a  little tilted on its axis. The mosque’s cool gray marble seems to cleanse him without exonerating him, and it is exactly what Agron needs.

Someone shoulders past him deliberately, and Agron turns. Like magic Nasir is before him again. Their eyes meet just as the ezan sounds from the minarets that tower overhead, an ethereal echo across the city, calling the faithful to prayer. Nasir’s honey-brown eyes throw a glance over his shoulder, a call that is as loud and clear as the ezan itself. In an instant, Agron is helpless. He would follow him anywhere. 

Agron lets Nasir lead him through hallways, down steps and along the winding back streets. Eventually Nasir ducks into a small doorway and up a flight of narrow stairs. He leaves the door to the apartment ajar, and Agron shuts it behind them. As soon as the bolt clicks into place, Nasir grabs the back of Agron's neck, yanking him down for a kiss, molding his body against him. Agron's hands move over Nasir's back, slipping under the waist of his pants, squeezing him, lifting him up onto his toes. They break apart, breathless, half-mad with starved craving.

Nasir gives him an eager, playful grin. “You’re late again.”

Agron's hands tug impatiently at Nasir's belt. "It's ok, I know you missed me," Agron tells him, undoing the buckle and tossing Nasir's belt to the floor.

"You're getting a bit ahead of yourself, fucker." Nasir's hands slide under Agron's shirt, caressing him, dragging his nails over Agron's stomach.

Agron swiftly unzips Nasir's pants, letting them fall to his ankles. Nasir steps backwards and swipes the discarded clothing away with a foot. 

"Good dick will do that to you,” grins Agron shamelessly, moving Nasir back a few more steps.

“Oh you don't think I've had better dick, hm?” Nasir's finger's undo Agron's fly, dipping inside to fondle him teasingly, leaning back against the furniture behind him.

“I think you’ve had  _the best dick,_  and now it’s got you coming back for more.” Agron moves in close, letting Nasir stroke him for one more lovely moment. Then he turns Nasir by the shoulders, suddenly impatient.

Nasir puts a knee up on the back of the sofa, leaning down and looking back over his shoulder. Those eyes again.

“Show me.”

It’s different this time. When they kiss, Nasir's mouth is soft and his lips linger. Agron clutches Nasir’s thigh as he pushes inside, and Nasir reaches back, pressing a hand on top of his.

Nasir sighs Agron's name, and his sudden vulnerability is captivating. This is the sweetness at the core of Nasir, a new discovery hidden beneath layer after hardened layer. Agron only wants more. He climbs over onto the sofa cushions and lies back with his head against the arm, grinning up at Nasir before taking hold of his waist and pulling him down on top of him.

"I want to see you."

Nasir cradles Agron's face, caressing his cheek with his fingers. He leans in and kisses Agron's forehead, his nose, then his mouth. Agron soaks him in as they kiss again and again, reveling in the feel of each other for many long moments. Then Agron watches Nasir take hold of him, sinking down onto him exquisitely slow.

"You're fucking beautiful," Agron breathes.

Nasir rises and falls above him, a tangle of hair in his face, his hands on Agron's chest. When he draws close, Nasir turns his head, his mouth open, breathing hard. Agron gives him just enough to push him over the edge, thrusting his hips up into him. Nasir’s fingers thread into his, and Agron feels them flinch as the tremble runs through him and he loses himself.

 

Agron loves how Nasir’s body fits against him, lying in bed in the stillness of the afternoon. They speak to each other like that night in Colombia, a long meandering stream of consciousness conversation. Everything seems changed now. It's as though the world has been painted in different colors. All Agron wants is to stay wrapped around Nasir, to wake up to the morning with Nasir still in his arms.

"Would you ever stop?"

“There was something I realized even from when I was still rather young; I live on borrowed time." Nasir tucks his head under Agron's chin. "I think it instilled in me a certain… _fearlessness_  when it came to doing what I needed to do.”

"But you're more than a tool for others to use."

"I could say the same to you."

“…Maybe that's all I would need."

Nasir turns to look at him, trying to decipher his meaning.

Agron looks back at him intently. "I want to be with you."

Nasir sighs. "...I'm here with you now."

"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"

"Stop." Nasir presses a hand to Agron's chest. "Don't do this. Don't kill it."

"You don't feel it?"

"You say things without thinking about the consequences."

"Because I'm in love with you, Nasir. I fucking love you, and I don't give a shit about the fucking fallout." 

"I told you before, it's not going to be like how you think. What am I supposed to say?"

"I know you feel it too."

Nasir turns his face away but Agron turns it back with a gentle hand. There are tears in Nasir's eyes, and he nods wordlessly. Agron kisses him.

"Come away with me."

"I'm in too deep," Nasir manages to say, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "You already fucking know that."

"It isn't the life you deserve. There's a way out of this. Nothing's impossible."

"You sound like Hakim." Nasir presses a hand to Agron's cheek. There is uncertainty in his face, but he doesn’t refuse him. "...I don't want us making promises."

"We don't have to," answers Agron. "We just need each other." 

"I-"

An encrypted message pops up on Agron’s phone, beeping a special notification. Agron glances at the screen and sits bolt upright.

Nasir looks from the phone to Agron's face. “What?”

" 'N in Istanbul. Immediate response requested.’ ” 

But headquarters never receives a response. Agron and Nasir are gone, like two dots erased from a map.

 

 


	6. Punjab, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> India

Agron can only imagine the hell breaking loose at this very moment. Castus is probably losing his shit. But Agron can’t let himself think too deeply about any of that. The bus rattles along the rough, uneven road as though it could fall apart at any moment. Each of the tiny threadbare seats are packed so tightly there is hardly any air between the passengers. 

It has been a few years since Agron has traveled to Punjab, but it's a place that has always had the feeling of being from another time. They board an ancient train in Kalka, taking them higher and deeper into the landscape. Outside the windows rise mountains and deep valleys, dotted by tiny villages. The scenery evokes the feeling of being inside of a painting. Agron watches Nasir’s face as he stares out the window, quietly observing, unaware of how often Agron’s eyes drift to him. Somewhere in this lush world is where they finally disembark. Agron has no idea where they will end up next, but at least he’s bought some time for them to plan their next move.

The house to which they walk is large but unassuming among its neighbors. Agron enters the code and pulls open the large iron gate. They walk up a shadowed stone path and step into the house. Once they're inside, Nasir pauses behind him.

“…How can you be sure we can trust her?"

"She's been a contact for a long time. If there's any place in the world I would feel safe right now, it'd be here."

Nasir looks around with lingering unease. "...I don't like large spaces."

“I guess that’s too fucking bad, then,” comes the voice from the hall.

Nasir snatches his gun from his back, aiming it at the source of the interruption.

The woman takes a step forward. ”We'll put a cot in the closet for you.”

"You've got a fucking crazy streak a mile wide, woman!!” Agron says, gently pushing down Nasir's gun. Nasir looks up at him in startled confusion. Agron nods towards the woman. “Mira. Our hostess."

Mira flashes them a cheeky grin. "Hello, boys." 

"I... I didn't, I mean we were-" begins Nasir, trying to calm himself.

"No, it's fine. I'm providing you fugitives with safe harbor at considerable personal risk, and you just tried to murder me in the foyer of my house. Totally fine."

Agron shakes his head fondly, leaning down to hug her. "I'm sorry. And thank you. This is Nasir.”

“Look at the way he handles that gun! He’s a keeper, Aggy.” Mira laughs, waving them away. 

"Turn left at the top of the stairs. First room on the right."

When they come back downstairs, there’s a bottle of Indian cashew apple liquor on the coffee table and two glasses. Mira slouches in an armchair with the third glass, already half-gone.

"I'm sorry for fucking with you back there. This is the first time I've seen Agron with anyone, and I got a little overexcited.” Mira sets down her glass and leans forward. “Friends?"

Nasir shakes the offered hand, though he looks at Mira skeptically. "I could've shot you."

"I know, I'm a crazy bitch sometimes, eh?" laughs Mira, finishing off her glass and pouring a round for all three of them. 

"...It's been a long trip. But I thank you for your generosity," Nasir says, attempting a smile through frayed nerves and exhaustion. He downs a good bit of the liquor in one swallow.

"Me and Aggy go way back, speaking of crazy bitches." Agron raises a brow over the rim of his drink and Mira winks. "Do you guys have any idea what the plan is, after this??"

Agron and Nasir look at each other guiltily. "...No."

"You've got quite the fucking mess on your hands, I'll tell you that for free! But this is a good place to disappear for awhile. I've got my finger on the pulse around here and it stays pretty quiet except for the typical ground-level mafia bullshit.” 

Mira sits up in the chair, getting serious for a moment. “And you both already know this but I'm still gonna fucking say it. Don't go outside. You need to _lay low._  Take some time to breathe, be smart about what you do next. Watch the clouds. Reaffirm your undying love. Invite me to the wedding… I think I deserve to be best man after this shit."

"I did something stupid, didn't I?" Agron leans back on the sofa, running his hands over his face. He sighs heavily.

"You know what I've learned, though? When you love someone, those lines get pretty blurred." A bittersweet smile crosses Mira’s face. "I loved someone once... I know how shitty and painful it can get. But let me tell you... treasure what you have together until your last fucking breath."

Nasir returns her smile, then glances at Agron. "I never meant to drag him down with me. I never meant for any of this.”

"I'm going to see you free from them if it fucking kills me," Agron tells him, a hand on Nasir's knee.

Mira eyes Nasir and fans herself. “He’s full of those goddamn romantic hero lines, isn't he?? You're making me blush over here, Aggy!" She grins, rising from her chair. "I'll leave you boys to it. I was never here. Just drop me a line when you're off. And don't worry about the laundry.... I will wash your dirty, dirty sheets."

Agron laughs. Nasir coughs. 

"I was going to say 'Thank You' but now I'm gonna say 'Fuck You’,” Agron informs her, shooting her a look of amusement as she walks past.

Mira throws up a hand in farewell. "You're welcome, babe. Babes. Good luck.”

 

It is mid-afternoon, but they climb into the massive mahogany bed upstairs and fall asleep for hours, nestled together. Early the next morning Agron comes awake, reaching out beside him to find empty sheets. In a panic he sits up, but then he sees the bathroom door is ajar and hears the shower. Agron slides out of bed, crossing the hardwood and pushing the bathroom door open further.

Inside the glass walls of the shower, Nasir's eyes are closed as he leans a hand against the stone tile, letting the water run over his head and down his back. Agron stares at him from head to toe, only belatedly realizing Nasir has cut off most of his hair. He opens the shower door and steps in, but Nasir still doesn't raise his head. Agron runs his fingers over the scruff that's left.

"It was too hot," murmurs Nasir.

"I like it," Agron says, wrapping arms around him. "And I like this. And I love you."

Nasir turns, putting his arms around Agron's neck, answering him with a kiss. He leans his forehead against Agron's chin and sighs.

"You need to run before it's too late. You can still-"

"I'm not going anywhere."

Nasir looks up at him with a stricken face. He's been torturing himself with this line of thought, Agron realizes now. 

"I'm not worth it. I'm not worth any of this. Hakim died because of me.” Nasir lowers his eyes. “…It was my fault that it happened."

"You were their top man. How could you think it was you??"

"He was better than me. He was the best. And I fucked up one time and now he's gone,” Nasir tells him with growing agitation. “I can’t stop thinking about it, ever since we left Istanbul. I can't fucking think of anything else!!”

"Nasir..."

But before Agron can continue, Nasir kisses him again, pressing the full length of his body against him with manic energy. Nasir shoves Agron backwards until he thuds against the opposite wall, reaching down between them, stroking them both to erection with one hand. Agron closes his eyes, exhaling as his head falls back against the tile, letting Nasir do as he likes. Nasir leans down and bites a nipple, traveling across his chest with hard kisses and the hint of teeth. Agron shudders, feeling the rush of arousal quickly win out over any lingering uncertainty. Nasir entwines their hands, holding Agron’s up against the wall as he attacks Agron’s mouth, and then the strong sloping lines of his neck.

Nasir hikes a foot up on the ledge behind them, and his arousal slides wetly against Agron’s stomach. One of Agron’s hands flinches, instinctively wanting to touch him, but Nasir presses Agron’s hands harder against the wall. Nasir’s hips move slowly against him, dragging his own cock over Agron's and the hard muscle of Agron's pelvis too. There’s just enough friction to quickly drive them both crazy.

“I wanna fuck you,” Nasir tells him, wild-eyed and breathing hard. “Right now.”

Nasir doesn’t have to say anything more. Agron moves to his hands and knees, and Nasir is behind him, smearing oil down his ass. He feels Nasir's slick fingers slide all over him, down his cock, between his legs, aggressively making claim. Agron waits for what he wants, that first moment of penetration, the feeling of giving himself over to Nasir completely. He gasps when Nasir’s teeth sink into the fleshy back of one thigh, then the other. Agron sways back against him, wanting it even more. Then Nasir rises on his knees, and Agron’s mouth falls open as at last Nasir begins to fuck him, wet skin to wet skin.

Agron loves Nasir this way too, loves Nasir controlling his hips and the feel of Nasir inside him, hitting the spot that makes him cry out under the pelting water. He touches himself, matching Nasir’s rhythm and the frenzied, strange energy of it all. Soon Agron squeezes his eyes shut, hanging his head as he comes with a powerful shudder. Nasir’s fingers dig into Agron's hips as muscle tightens around him, thrusting into him a few more times before he stills in orgasm. Nasir pulls out, leaning a cheek against Agron’s back, drained.

They breathe together for a few moments, heaving chest to back, then Agron turns. Nasir melts into his arms, his face in the crook of Agron’s shoulder, and they lie there on the shower floor in silence. Then Agron extracts himself, shutting off the water and taking a towel. Nasir stands and lets Agron dry him off before he retreats to the bed. 

With concern, Agron watches Nasir close his eyes and curl up on his side. Agron quietly pulls the sheets over him and slides in beside him. They're spooned together and motionless for some time.

"I love you," Nasir says softly. "...I'm sorry I'm fucked up like this."

"Don't apologize," answers Agron, his mouth against Nasir's neck. "I love you. Til my last fucking breath."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me some Nagron bath/shower sex :P
> 
> This was my first time writing Nasir as a top. I usually see him as a bottom, which I sometimes think people fight against because they view it as "lesser" or emasculating (much as they did way back in Ancient Rome) but I don't know... I think it's kind of beautiful if Nasir wants to be a bottom, and strives to be The Bestest Bottom There Ever Was XD I often like to think of Agron being a super-dominant beast and just wreckin' dat ass. 
> 
> But I digress. It was fun trying out Nasir as a top, and I enjoyed writing him from a different perspective than what I'm used to :D


	7. Nasir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude, from Nasir's POV.

Nasir stands at the balcony, breathing in the mountain air. He imagines a different life, one where he might have lived in one of the little villages he sees below him, working hard but living honestly. 

Nasir doesn't remember his early years in Syria, but he wonders if perhaps he was born in a similarly humble place, to the parents he never knew. Hakim told him precious few stories of them, but Nasir knew life had been difficult, and that as an infant he had almost died from lack of proper food to eat.

What Nasir does remember is how it felt the first time he held a gun, and the tremble in his hands that wouldn’t go away, no matter how painfully the men punished him. Nasir remembers Hakim steadying him, Hakim reminding him to exhale before pulling the trigger. And before long Nasir could do it just like his big brother, again and again, and he was good at it too.

Nasir remembers his first kill, before they became too many to count. Hakim hugging him, washing the blood from his hair, letting him cry. Nasir wonders sometimes if he killed the part inside of him that cried that first time. _We do what we must,_ Hakim had told him. But there were tears in Hakim’s eyes too.

And then the memory that always follows, demanding to be acknowledged: Hakim’s body hitting the ground the day things went wrong, so many years later.

Nasir looks through the windows behind him. Agron is sitting at the bedroom desk, going through a myriad of information on the laptop, puzzling out where they will run to next. Nasir comes back into the room just as Agron closes the computer, stretching out the long muscular bulk of his arms. 

Nasir loves Agron’s arms… the overwhelming strength of them when they’re braced above his shoulders, or when they bear the weight of his body in all the ways they’ve discovered together. Tonight Agron’s arms are wrapped around him again in the darkness as they talk quietly with each other. Nasir can almost believe that there’s a place for them somewhere in this world. He listens to Agron speak of plans tomorrow, wanting so badly to believe him but knowing all too well what cannot be.

"I know you have doubts," Agron's hand is on Nasir's cheek and it feels too good, so Nasir lets it stay. "But there are places we can go."

"Promise me you won't talk like that anymore." Nasir looks at him with a veneer of anger in his eyes, but they both know there is a nameless other something beneath. "You need to go back to your life before it's gone for good."

"I don't fucking care about any of that," insists Agron. Nasir feels Agron’s arms clutch him tighter. "You already know how I feel." 

Nasir lets Agron kiss him, because it's even better than the hand on his cheek.

"You're being cruel," Nasir tells him when they part at last.

"So be it." Agron is so intent upon him it breaks Nasir's heart.

Nasir knows it's only a matter of time before things catch up with them. He too has been cruel for letting this go on for so long. He knows now that this is an attachment he needs to sever, for the sake of them both. When you form attachments, you get sloppy. And when you get sloppy, you get taken out. 

_Just once more,_  thinks Nasir. He watches with half-lidded eyes as Agron leans over him, pressing a trail of kisses down his chest and past his stomach. Agron pulls the sheets down further, and his kisses continue. Nasir’s head falls back against the pillow and a sigh escapes his lips.

_Just once more._

* * * * * 

The next morning, Nasir watches from the bed as Agron pulls on clothes. He's leaving to meet someone who can help smuggle them where they aim to go. Nasir doesn't try to stop him again. Agron plants a hand on the headboard, gazing down at him with a warm smile. After they kiss, Nasir turns away, hiding the moisture that's beginning in his eyes.

"Be careful," Nasir says quietly.

"I will, don't worry."

 

Nasir listens for the sound of the door closing downstairs and immediately throws off the sheets. Taking the laptop from the desk, Nasir accesses a new network. 

 

 


	8. Punjab, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> India

Agron folds his hands on the tabletop. He's feeling so jittery that after a few minutes he can't even sit anymore, so he paces the room as he waits for the knock on the door. He fucking hates leaving Nasir by himself, but neither does he want to meet anywhere near Mira's house. The hotel room is two towns over, in a touristy area. If things go to shit, at least there's the camouflage of that.

There’s a knock on the door right on time, almost to the minute.

Agron slides up next to the door, leaving the chain on and cracking it open to peer outside. He smiles with relief, admitting his guest and quickly re-securing all of the locks.

“I’m sorry you had to come all this-" begins Agron as he turns.

"I wanna know one FUCKING reason I don't go to HQ with this. Right. Fucking. Now."

The gun in Agron’s face is just a tiny clue that Castus is deadly serious, and that subsequently he’s mired in some pretty deep shit. As if he wasn't already.

”…Because you know I wouldn't do it if I didn't have a good reason. And because you’re my friend,” offers Agron, trying his best to diffuse the situation.

Castus is unimpressed. ”I'm sure as shit not friends with a fucking TRAITOR. I'm about 2 seconds from blowing your goddamn face off, is what I am."

"You don't know the whole story, Castus!"

"I'm listening.” The gun lowers ever so slightly.

Agron opens his mouth, but then he closes it again.”…It's complicated,” he finally says.

“Alright-" Castus raises the gun again.

"Wait! Shit, I'm telling the fucking truth, it's complicated!! Can I sit down? Jesus Fucking Christ, Castus... you've known me long enough to give me a little credit."

"What am I supposed to think, Agron?? You disappear from communications for weeks... You pop up again and it's like you're a different person!” Agron is relieved to see Castus finally lower the gun, clicking the safety back on and stashing it back in his holster. 

“I've seen other guys get too close, turn into junkies and worse, but you were as good as they come..." Castus leans forward. "You're fucking him, aren't you?? Goddamn it, Agron.”

Agron rakes a hand through his hair. "It's not like that. I'm telling you, it's not like that!"

"Why are you doing this to yourself? How the fuck did you think this was ok?? You've got a career that you're throwing away and for what? Cause some little Syrian knows how to suck dick? Just tell me where he is and we can fix this.”

“You don’t understand… Fuck it." Agron picks up his phone, flashing his screen. "Here, I'm sending this to you. I can't trust anyone else with this until I find out who it leads to."

Castus throws him a deeply skeptical look before he begins to read the document that has downloaded onto his phone, but his expression quickly becomes grave. 

”…This is unbelievable. Where did you get this?”

"NOW do you see?? Will you help me?"

“Agron..." Castus shakes his head in disbelief. “I don’t know what to fucking think anymore.”

"I knew I could count on you."

Castus sighs. "Fuck you, man.”

Agron flashes him a smile, and suddenly it feels like they’ve just become two castaways in the middle of the goddamn ocean.

”Thanks, Castus.”

* * * * * 

Agron's heart pounds as he unlocks the gate, quickly making his way back into the house. He’s reassured that they now have Castus firmly on their side, and he knows Nasir can handle himself, but he still won't be able to breathe easy until he sees Nasir is unharmed and whole. Agron finds the first floor eerily empty, and immediately his heart starts to beat even faster.

"Nasir?"

Agron rushes up the staircase two steps at a time, stopping short in the doorway of the bedroom. 

“Nasir??"

Nasir is mid-pace, looking up at him like a deer in headlights, breathing hard. Agron's heart feels like it's going to break out of his fucking chest.

"I-I'm sorry..." Nasir stammers, tears in his eyes and a nervous mess. "They know. They're coming."

“Shit." 

Agron looks around and his mind starts to race. Then their eyes both light upon the laptop open on the bed. Agron recognizes the command screen and frowns in confusion. 

"...What did you do?"

Nasir looks up at him, his face streaked with tears. "You were never going to listen to reason! I couldn't drag you down any more!"

"What the fuck did you do???"

"I'm sorry."

Agron shakes his head in disbelief. “You told them.”

"No! I was going to leave. I wanted to be gone before you came back!”

“So you wouldn’t have to look me in the eyes when they came for me?” Agron’s hands clench into fists at his sides. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

"Agron, listen to me-"

Agron turns away. "I wish I could fucking hate you. I wish I could.”

“I wanted to cover for you, that’s why-“

Agron leans heavily on the door frame, exhaling shakily. “A bullet would’ve been kinder than _stabbing me in the fucking heart._ ”

He begins to walk away but Nasir follows.

“Don’t you walk away from me. Don’t you FUCKING dare! I didn’t ask for any of this, but I’m here with you and now you’re like fucking air to me,” Nasir spits out. 

Agron stops dead in his tracks, turning to face him again. Nasir points an angry finger at him.

“I couldn’t fucking live with myself if they took you. I love you and that's the goddamn TRUTH, but you need to fucking listen!!" Nasir is shaking visibly, but he takes a breath to collect himself before he continues. 

"I wanted to leave while you were gone because I knew you could never let me go. I was going to message them to buy you some time, but they found me first."

Agron swallows. His face is shell-shocked. "...I'm sorry."

"There’s time if you go, but you have to go NOW. I’m begging you, Agron.”

"I can't leave without you."

"You'll kill us both!!"

"Forgive me…" Agron looks down at the floor. It's the worst possible time for this, but he knows Nasir will never listen to him unless he says it. "I was still trying to figure things out... But there’s one thing I know for certain." 

He looks into Nasir's eyes. "...Hakim wasn't taken out because of that mission. It was an inside job."

The color drains from Nasir's face. _“What??”_

“You can’t go back to them. You know you can’t. We can take them down. Together.”

“I…”

“They’ve _used_ you, ever since you were old enough to hold a gun. Don’t give them any more of your life.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying… It’s impossible.”

“You’ve been carrying that burden alone for so long. Let me help you.”

Nasir embraces him, clutching him hard, his face buried in Agron's shoulder. "...It's a fucking death sentence. Don't you understand that?? A fucking death sentence." 

Agron kisses the top of his head. “Then we go down together.”

 


	9. Agron & Nasir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude, before one last mission.

Agron bites his lip, exhaling as his hips fall back to the sheets. Nasir’s tongue darts over his mouth as he slides back up Agron’s body, settling on top of him so that they’re chest to chest. They’ve spent the entire day in much the same way, luxuriating in each other's bodies, lazily hedonistic. 

The room is a shabby mess of muddy colors and dirty, worn furniture. Underneath them the bed sags, its springs emitting a groan of protest with every movement. They’ve competed with each other to see who’s been able to make those springs groan the loudest. Agron’s pretty sure he won.

They’re both pleasantly drunk as they lie in bed together, in possibly the shittiest motel in all of Melbourne, far on the edge of town. The surroundings don’t really matter, though. They’re too preoccupied with each other, and these last precious few hours before they embark on their final mission. The day has gone by far too quickly. Agron silently notes that the sun has already set and they’ll have to sleep soon.

Nasir presses his forehead to Agron’s, then kisses him wetly.

“…What do I taste like?”

“Come and whiskey,” answers Agron fondly.

Nasir snorts in amusement, licking his lips again. “Hmm, yeah.”

“I've gotta say I'm fucking impressed. You can put it away, little man.”

“Call me that again and I’ll make you measure me with your tongue.”

"With pleasure." Agron’s hands caress down the muscles of Nasir's back, then back up again.

"Is this how you expected to spend your last day on Earth?"

"You've brought a lot of unexpected things into my life. But now I can't see it any other way."

"Any regrets?"  
   
"Only that we didn't meet sooner. Although teenage me was kind of an asshole... maybe we could've met when I was 20. You  _might_  have thought I was cool enough to buy you a drink."

"With your goddamn romantic hero lines," grins Nasir.

“Here's something... not a regret, just something I wanted to ask you and never did. That day I spotted you in Aleppo… You looked up at me and your face was so sad. What were you thinking?”

Nasir slides off to nestle against Agron's side, a cheek on his chest. “...Hakim. It had been three years ago to the day that it happened. Every time that day came close, I would have spells where I’d think about… ending things. I had seen you the previous day. I already knew where you were staying. But then you did something I didn’t expect you to do… there were 2 little boys on the street and you had done something kind for them. Do you remember?”

“I think so. I don't know what drew me to them.”

“You were so kind and they were so alone and I just keep thinking how they could’ve been my brother and I… It made my heart even heavier to think that I’d have to find you after I finished off my target. I’d have no choice but to take you out. But as I walked down that street the next day, knowing your cross hairs were fixed on me, I thought to myself, ‘What if I just let him do it?’ ”

“I never want you to feel that way again. You deserve to be happy. And you deserve to be free.”

“I am.” Nasir takes Agron’s face in both of his hands. “No matter what happens tomorrow… Right here with you, right now... I am.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That string of come on Nasir's bottom lip tho #^_^#
> 
> As you can imagine, this mood board was a fucking joy to put together <3
> 
>  
> 
> "Come and whiskey"... hehehe


	10. Melbourne, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final mission in Australia, part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In addition to the mood board at the end, here's some mood music for their infiltration: [Stripsearch by Faith No More.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-TCCmg6ZGM)
> 
> Imagine Agron & Nasir being gun-toting badasses in slow motion :D

They’ve slipped inside a nondescript office building from the darkness of the parking garage below. Crouched in a back corridor, they lie in wait. Agron controls his breathing, trying to find the balance between alertness and over tension. Nasir’s face is set in a grim expression of determination. They’re both armed to the fucking teeth.

"Doing this won't fix things. You should remember that," Agron says.

"It felt good for a moment though, didn't it? Taking out the guy who took Duro from you, watching the light leave his fucking eyes?”

"For a moment. It was like a reflex, it happened so fast... But when it was over, the person I loved was still bleeding out in my arms. There was nothing that was going to change that.”

"I'm not stopping until we're done. We kill them all." Nasir loads a clip in his gun and it snaps into place, as though to punctuate his words.

Agron looks at Nasir with a mixture of admiration and resignation.  _We're both fucking crazy,_  he thinks as checks his guns and re-straps them to both hips.  _Just batshit fucking insane._

They both hold their breath, watching the timer count down to zero on Nasir's phone. The C2 detonates right under the center of the lobby floor and then all hell breaks loose. 

* * * * * 

POST-OPERATION REPORT

CLASSIFIED

SUBMITTING AGENT: CASTUS [*REDACTED*]

LEAD AGENT: AGRON [*REDACTED*]

PRECEDENCE: NONE.

SYNOPSIS: Agency efforts to neutralize target Nasir [*REDACTED*]

DETAILS: Project was implemented after target Nasir (Target) was deemed Person of Interest (POI) and then Suspect in connection with several international incidents over a period of approximately 6 years. Agent Agron assigned to case. Initial efforts at tracking proved unsuccessful. First contact made in Aleppo, Syria. Confirmed sighting in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Subsequent contact in London, United Kingdom. Aborted neutralization of Target in Ibiza, Spain and Wan Chai, Hong Kong. Analysts note subsequent alteration in Target's behavior patterns.

* * * * * 

Nasir is like a deadly machine, picking off two men at a time, moving down the hall of the 8th floor with alarming speed. In the air are the mingled scents of gun smoke and the blood from the bodies they've left in their wake, soaking into the hallway carpet. The fire in the lobby grows larger by the minute, soon to start swallowing the second floor as well. Agron lands a head shot on a gunman approaching Nasir from behind, wondering whether they'll reach the top floor before the entire fucking place goes down.  

Soon they're in front of the elevator that services the top floors, and Nasir slides a card key in the slot next to the call buttons inside. Nasir sends the elevator cab down one floor and Agron reopens the doors to the vacated shaft with a drop key. They glance at each other, steeling themselves before they begin climbing up.

* * * * * 

Unconfirmed sighting of Target in Bogota, Colombia. Security concerns for Agent. Agent sustains injury on unrelated operation. After period of convalescence, Agent is deployed to Istanbul, Turkey. Confirmed sighting of Target. Analysis of behavior patterns suggest Target is tracking Agent. High security concerns for Agent. 

Successful contact with Target is assumed but unconfirmed. In violation of protocol, Agent proceeded with deep cover and communication blackout over approximate period of 2.5 weeks. No prior approval granted. All efforts of reestablishing contact unsuccessful. 

* * * * * 

On the 11th floor they climb from the elevator shaft into a duct, crawling through and watching from the vent. The hallway is swarming with gunmen.

"...He's still here. His security detail. That’s why there are so many.”

"How are we getting through all that shit???"

Nasir doesn't answer, crawling back out into the elevator shaft. He puts a hand on the lever that releases the outer doors.

"Get ready. I'm opening them."

Agron pulls out an Uzi, throwing Nasir an incredulous look. "Fucking shit, Nasir."

Nasir cracks a smile at him, releasing the lever and sliding open the doors to the hornet’s nest that awaits them.

* * * * * 

Newly discovered documents by Agent Castus show evidence of previous human trafficking operations, affecting estimated 300 male children and 130 female children from Aleppo and surrounding areas. Documents are believed to have been collected by Hakim. Unconfirmed whether brothers were among aforementioned group, but strong likelihood. Analysts conclude that Hakim's actions were without approval or knowledge of organization. Elimination of Hakim appears to be in direct connection to this.

* * * * * 

There’s a protracted shootout when Agron and Nasir reach the inner chamber of the director’s offices, but soon there’s only one soul left alive.

Agron and Nasir creep slowly into the inner office, weapons drawn. A safe door sits open in the wall, and there are documents scattered everywhere. In the middle of the mess stands the director of the entire operation, and the most powerful man in the building. 

The director is Syrian as well. He is almost as tall as Agron, a wire-haired executive you could find at any Fortune 500 company. The man knows he’s caught, but Agron doesn’t like the lingering feeling of menace that emanates from him. He’s calmer than he should be.

“Habibi,” the director says to Nasir with a warm, fatherly smile. Agron feels his rage begin to boil inside of him.  
   
“Hands in the fucking air, you piece of shit,” growls Agron.

“We’ve known each other for how long, Nasir?” continues the man, ignoring Agron. “Before you could even speak English, eh?”

“I gave you everything.” Nasir glowers, his gun aiming steadily between the director’s eyes. “EVERYTHING.”

The fatherly smile never leaves the man’s face. Agron wants to wipe it off so badly it begins to cause him physical pain.

“I think if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit that it wasn’t all that bad. I won’t believe for a moment that you didn’t enjoy the power it gave you. You were different from Hakim-”

Nasir suddenly pulls the trigger, landing a bullet squarely in the man's thigh. “Don’t you FUCKING say his FUCKING name.”

The director grits his teeth, clutching the wound with one hand as it bleeds profusely. Agron frowns. It’s gratifying to watch the man suffer a bit, but it’s abundantly clear that this is one tough motherfucker. 

“He thought he could fuck me over," continues the director in a strained voice. "And why? Because I lifted you both up from a life of hunger and desperation and misery? I think you understood that better than he ever did.”

“So you build him up, then turn around and rip his fucking life away? After he did every last thing you fucking asked of him?? And you let me think it was my fault???”

“In the end… wasn’t it? Every player in this game knows the rules. But he wanted to get you out, and as a result he got stupid, and he got sloppy.”

Nasir blinks, but he can’t stop the moisture from spilling down his cheeks. Agron can see how deeply the director’s words wound him, despite everything. Nasir aims his gun, landing a bullet in the man’s other leg. The awful cry the man gives is satisfying in the worst way. Agron watches Nasir carefully, wondering if this is too much for him.

_“Fuck you,”_ Nasir rasps, in the only voice he can muster. His eyes are murderous. “Fuck your theories and fuck your conclusions and _fuck your weak fucking life.”_

The director leans heavily on the desk, doubled over in pain, no longer able to bear his own weight.

“Nasir,” Agron entreats quietly. “Leave this piece of shit. Let him burn on the floor of his own fucking office. You don’t-“

A bullet slams Agron in his left shoulder and he falls to the floor hard, looking up in disbelief. A gun from the desk drawer. That slimy motherfucker. 

Agron feels his consciousness start to drift away, but he fights it with everything he’s got. He can just make out a blurry form of Nasir as he tackles the director, putting a final bullet in his gut, leaving him to writhe and suffer as he gradually bleeds out on the floor in the corner. Then Nasir is by Agron’s side, touching his face, cradling him in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Nasir keeps repeating. His face is spattered with blood that’s streaked with sweat and tears, but Agron still thinks he’s fucking beautiful. If this is the last thing Agron sees in this unforgiving goddamn world, he can't complain about that. Weakly, he clutches Nasir's forearm.

“I’m not fucking leaving your side!” Nasir says, putting a hand over Agron’s and squeezing tight. “I’m never leaving your side again.”

Agron tries to speak, tries to tell him that the last thing he would ever want is to see Nasir sacrifice himself for something like this, but all he can do is whisper, “Nasir,” with the last of his strength, before everything goes black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGRONNNNN!!! Noooo~!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter is the finale :D


	11. Melbourne, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Australia

Melbourne office building destroyed by five-alarm fire, causing eventual structural collapse. Evidence of bomb detonation upon further examination of scene. Suspected terrorist involvement. No survivors found. CSI successful in identifying all but 5 human remains due to exposure to extreme heat. Target and Agent are likely among aforementioned remains. Analysts theorize that a confrontation occurred on top floor of building between Agent Agron, Target Nasir, and a third party. The third party is suspected to have been the director of operations, but this remains unconfirmed.

Agent Agron will be laid to rest with honors for his years of outstanding service.

* * * * *

As the copter approaches the building, Castus doesn’t like the look of things. He can see the company copter on the roof’s helipad, but no sign of activity. He also sees that the bottom seven floors are a raging inferno despite the best efforts of the army of fire trucks parked on the surrounding streets. Castus wonders whether there’s even room to set down without causing yet another fucking disaster.

Once he’s down the stairs and in the hallway, everything around him is death. There are bullet holes and blood spray all over the walls and across the carpet, and body after body that Castus steps carefully around, gun drawn. He’s afraid of what he’ll find as he approaches what must be the director’s office. The air is far too still.

More bodies. Then Castus steps into the inner office, and his heart stops. Agron lies pale and motionless on the floor, in the lap of the man Castus presumes is Nasir. Nasir’s hands are clamped over a wound in Agron’s left shoulder, but he’s still losing a dangerous amount of blood.

“Agron!!” Castus falls to his knees beside him, looking with horror at the rivulets of blood that are streaming between Nasir’s fingers.

Nasir is barely keeping it together. _“He’s fucking dying!!!”_

Castus checks Agron’s pulse. “We need to get him the fuck out of here. I’m going to tie his shirt to keep pressure, and then we need to get him to the roof.”

“There’s no way we can take him to a fucking hospital!!”

“I know a guy. He fixes things.”

* * * * *

ADDENDUM BY AGENT CASTUS:

Upon approach to building, I observed emergency response personnel unable to gain access due to severity of fire consuming seven lower floors. In effort to rescue any survivors trapped on upper floors, I landed on roof, gained access to 11th floor. All persons found deceased. Additionally, I observed Target, Agent and presumed director of operations deceased on floor of executive office. 

Attempts at resuscitation of Agent were unsuccessful.

* * * * *

The three of them are in a room in what must be the second shittiest motel in all of Melbourne. Agron's shoulder is stitched up, but it's going to be quite a scar once it's healed. Castus is just thankful they were able to get him out in time. He studies Agron's face for a long moment. It’s kinda funny how peaceful Agron looks, like all those times he passed out on Castus’ couch after one too many beers.

_The world's a better place with you in it, you fucking bastard._

Castus looks up, realizing Nasir is watching him from the other side of the bed, reading him like a book. Castus laughs to himself.

“…Sorry.”

“No… I just didn’t realize.” 

“I’m sure this showboating motherfucker’s never said a goddamn word about me.”

“He has, actually. Quite a few goddamn words.” Nasir smiles sympathetically. “But he might've been a little dense about this. You’re one of his closest friends.”

Castus shakes his head. “Sounds about right. Christ.”

Nasir looks away. “…He would’ve been better off.”

“Don’t say that. I’ve never seen him this way about anyone. But you’ll forgive me for a little fucking jealousy, eh?”

Nasir nods. “We owe both of our lives to you. You have my eternal thanks, Castus.”

“Yeah, yeah. You make it kinda hard to hate you, I gotta say,” Castus tells him with a grin.

"He'll be ok to move in a few days?"

"Yup." Castus sighs. "It's too risky for me to know where you guys will go... but you take good care of him.”

“Always.”

"He deserves to be happy.” Castus rests a hand on Agron’s arm. “He’s a good person... And I’ve got a feeling you are too, Nasir.”

“I know one thing,” Nasir says, looking at Agron with soft eyes as he speaks. “…He makes me want to be a better man.”

* * * * *

The last thing Agron remembers is Nasir's face and it's the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes again. Nasir is sitting in a chair, draped over the side of the bed, his head pillowed in his arms as he sleeps. For a moment Agron's confused. He's not quite sure if he's imagined everything and it's the day before their mission. Things seem to have a weird, dream-like quality to them. He's not quite sure if this is real, either. But when he tries to lift his arm to reach Nasir, the pain shoots through his left shoulder like a dagger, and it all comes back to him in a rush. Nasir hears him moan and is instantly awake. Nasir's hands are on his face.  

"You've come back to me," Nasir tells him gently. In his smile there is sadness, exhaustion and relief.

"I'm sorry," says Agron, in a gravelly disused voice. He blinks slowly, savoring the feel of Nasir's touch, hanging onto the life that it breathes into him.

Nasir shakes his head, looking down at the sheets as his tears fall. "...You were right. It didn't fix things. It didn't fix a fucking thing. And now we're here."

Agron lifts his right arm, feeling a much more bearable twinge of pain in his left arm. He runs his fingers through Nasir’s hair. Nasir looks up at him, and suddenly Agron can’t stop his own tears from falling. He caresses Nasir’s cheek, down his neck and over his arm, as though he needs the continued reassurance that Nasir is there in the flesh.

Agron clears his throat, coughing painfully. Nasir brings him water. After some time, he’s finally able to speak.

“…I knew it was what you needed. And there's a few less assholes in the world now,” Agron says, his voice still a little rough. “I’d do that crazy shit all over again if I knew I could wake up to the sight of you.”

Nasir kisses him, holding his face again. “What I needed was you. I'm sorry you had to suffer before I finally realized that."

"We'll make every fucking day count, from here on."

* * * * *

On a dusty back road, a beat up car rolls to a stop beside two hitchhikers. The driver leans out the window and there is a brief conversation. Then the shorter of the pair takes their back packs and tosses them in the trunk, helping his companion into the back seat before he slides in after him. Without lingering a second longer than it needs to, the car speeds away.

Mira drums her fingers on the steering wheel, pleased as punch to be a one-woman rescue party.

“I did good, didn’t I Aggy? Just like old times. I still got it!!”

“We can’t thank you enough,” Agron answers warmly.

“I guess I'll give Castus a little credit too… Just a little. But remember,” Mira says, pointing back at him for emphasis. “I'M best man. I will accept NOTHING less.”

“Hmm,” says Agron, winking at her. _Crazy as ever._

“So, where can I drop you boys off?”

Agron and Nasir exchange an uncomfortable look.

“Jesus, don’t tell me you’re just gonna close your eyes and point to a spot on a fucking map???”

“…Not exactly.”

“Well, it’s not like you have to settle down and start herding goats in the fucking mountains or some shit. How about a place for a hot sexy honeymoon, eh?” Mira raises her eyebrows enticingly.

“Ok,” says Nasir, before Agron even opens his mouth.

Mira flashes Nasir a huge grin. “You! I knew I liked you, Nas!!”

Agron laughs. “Alright, let’s hear your suggestion.”

“It’s out of the way, romantic… The ferry only goes to the mainland like three times a day." Mira pauses. "...And, um, there's a lot of fishermen. But never mind that. How’s your Japanese?”

“…Practically nonexistent.”

“Awesome. That’ll just add to the adventure, you guys!” proclaims Mira, smiling over her shoulder.

They drive on for hours, past endless stretches of dry grass and gum trees, heading north towards Dimboola. Like a proud big sister, Mira eyes them fondly in the rear view mirror from time to time. Agron knows she’s dying to talk their ears off, but she leaves them in peace for now, respectful of the hell they’ve been through. 

Agron leans on Nasir, and Nasir's arm winds gently around his own. Agron feels a quiet joy in the simple contact, both protective and lending strength without needing Agron to ask it of him. They could be anywhere, Agron realizes, but it's Nasir's presence that makes things complete. It's Nasir's love that makes him brave enough to leave this world behind and step into a new one across the ocean.

Mira parks the car near a lone airstrip, shading her eyes as she climbs out and surveys the small plane sitting just outside the hangar. Nasir gets out too, turning to hold out his hand to Agron. He nods in the direction of the plane.

"Are you ready?” Nasir whispers to him, smiling.

Their hands interlock, and Agron steps out into the bright, blinding sun. He pauses, gazing at the grove of olive trees beyond them and thinking of all the other places he has been to, imagining his life up until this moment laid across a vast map. Nasir pulls him gently, and at last Agron turns away from it all. With an unfettered heart, Agron squeezes Nasir’s hand, following him towards the unknown.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the song I would play over the end credits of my imaginary Nagron action film: ["Powerful" by Major Lazer (feat. Ellie Goulding & Tarrus Riley)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CM99aBbp1W0)
> 
> Thanks again to all my FB friends for the love and support as I posted these little installments week after week. I'm SO glad you AO3 folks enjoyed it too! This was my first time doing Modern AU Nagron outside of my comics, and it was lots of fun <3
> 
>  
> 
> ...*grows devil horns*... Did you guys notice this end part can be read in 2 different ways? >:D 
> 
> The second way to read this ending is that Agron & Nasir died in the office building, the "Post Operation Report" is relating what really happened, and everything that happens after that is part of their journey to the afterlife.
> 
> Here are some examples:  
> -"The person I loved was still bleeding out in my arms. There was nothing that was going to change that."  
> -Things seem to have a weird, dream-like quality to them. He's not quite sure if this is real, either.  
> -"...You were right. It didn't fix things. It didn't fix a fucking thing. And now we're here."  
> -as though he needs the continued reassurance that Nasir is there in the flesh.  
> -brave enough to leave this world behind and step into a new one across the ocean.  
> -steps out into the bright, blinding sun.
> 
> But I think even with this alternate interpretation, all that matters is that they're together, whether it's in this world or the afterlife. And I think it's neat to think of Mira as their escort to the next world, like they're crossing the River Styx, or that Mira is like a Japanese Shinigami.
> 
> Of course, we all want them to fly off into the sunset (including me), but I thought it was interesting to leave the ending a little open like this. Don't yell at me! hehe


End file.
